


Procrastination

by pasiphile



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Mirrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:53:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for prompt: "Polly, Mal, mirror. Everything else is your call."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Procrastination

She was supposed to be revising.

And, truth to be told, she had been revising. She’d gone through two chapters before she even started to get distracted, which must be some kind of record. Because, let’s face it: revising with Mal – hell, doing anything with Mal – generally only lasted about half an hour before things progressed to, erm, other things.

Wasn’t she the eloquent one?

But who the fuck had time for eloquence when Mal’s hands were on her waist and her mouth on her neck and Polly’s knees went weak just from having her this close?

She took a handful of Mal’s short, artfully tousled hair and pulled her back up. Mal had to go on tiptoe to reach her, something which she would never not take advantage of.

She tasted of coffee. Again, with Mal that was more often the case than not, and it was better than a lingering taste of curry or any of the other vegetarian take-away Mal was so fond of.

Still, it was a bit distracting.

Mal nosed under her jaw and nibbled at her throat.

“Always – always the neck with you,” Polly said, grinning.

“Well, you do have a very pretty throat, you know.”

“You’re a very odd person.”

Mal pulled back and gave her a big beaming grin. “And that’s why you like me, isn’t it?”

Polly scrunched her nose. “Actually I’m just after you for your class notes. Sorry,” she added, solemnly. “We’ve been living a lie.”

“Oh really?” Mal growled, and she flipped her around. “In that case you’re a better faker than I’d given your credit for, Perks.”

“I have many hidden ta-eep – ” She clamped her hand around Mal’s slim wrist. Mal had managed to wriggle her fingers beneath Polly’s shirt. “Cold,” she said, reproachfully.

Mal shrugged. “Bad circulation.” She smirked, going into something Polly always thought of as smouldering, even though it sounded a bit cheesy. “Warm me, Polly,” Mal said, dramatically.

Polly rolled her eyes but got her hands underneath Mal’s jacket anyway, tracing the line of her spine, that sensitive place just beneath her shoulderblades. Mal went back to her neck, suckling gently.

“Turn,” she whispered.

Polly turned around and leaned back against Mal, eyes falling closed. Mal’s hand trailed down to her stomach, her other hand carefully holding her throat. Polly made a happy noise and opened her eyes again. She blinked.

For one dreadful second she thought someone had come in – but no, the door was on the other side of the room, so why –

And then she recognized her own face, flushed, dark-eyed, her hair a mess.

Mal stopped what she was doing and poked her in the side. “You’ve gone very quiet all of a sudden.”

Polly leaned sideways and Mal grinned when she caught her reflection. “Getting distracted by yourself? I knew you were vain, Perks, but – ”

“Fuck off, Mister spends-three-hours-with-hair-product-in-the-bathroom-every-morning.”

“And look where it’s got me.” Mal ran her hand through her hair. It still looked good, though; on Mal, it always did.

She took a step back, watching the mirror with her head held to one side. It was a narrow, floor-length thing, big enough to see herself in it top to toe.

Polly looked at Mal, who was waiting with an amused, slightly mocking expression on her sharp face. “Getting ideas, Perks?” she asked, but the spark in her eyes was kind of spoiling her air of detached amusement.

“Yes. Come here.”

Mal raised her eyebrow but did as she was told, facing the mirror. Polly came up behind her, stroking her shoulders. She leaned down a little, her mouth brushing against the shell of Mal’s ear. “I want to see you,” Polly whispered. “When you – I want to see your face.”

Mal reached behind her and squeezed her thigh. “You can see that any time you want, no need for a mirror there.”

She grinned and bit at Mal’s earlobe. “Not like this.”

“You - you may have a point,” Mal said, with a little shiver. She half-turned and caught Polly’s neck, drew her in for a sloppy kiss.

Polly pulled away from Mal’s mouth and trailed kisses down her neck, even though it was a bit awkward with their height difference. Mal leaned back against her, arching her back like a cat pushing into a stroke of a hand. She wasn’t exactly the shy type, Mal, never hesitated to show she liked something.

Polly started unbuttoning Mal’s shirt. She might, occasionally, have commented on Mal’s clothing style, but Mal’s insistence of wearing dress shirts did have its advantages. Plus, there was something incredibly sexy about seeing Mal with her shirt hanging open and her hair a mess.

Mal had called it déshabillé when Polly had once mentioned it and told her it had something to do with the suggestion of just-being-shagged; Polly just called it hot and didn’t bother overthinking it.

Mal’s hand reached back, groping her thigh again. The other went up to tangle in Polly’s hair. “Not fair,” she whined. “I can’t reach anything from here.”

“I know,” Polly said smugly. She ran her hands over Mal’s slim chest, thumbs catching on her nipples. “I’m kind of enjoying it.”

Mal leaned her head back and blinked up at her, half upside-down. “I thought you rather liked it when I can reach you.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s also a bit distracting.”

Mal grinned. “Good to – oh.”

“Mmm?” Polly said, slowly pushing her hand further down Mal’s trousers.

“Good to know. Mm, that’s – bit to the left, if you plea- _ngh_ \- ”

Polly adjusted her hand, rubbing slow circles over Mal’s underwear. Her eyes strayed to the mirror.

She almost gasped. It looked – pornographic, but in a good way, not like those fake-looking spray-tanned women with bad acting skills. It was…

God. Hot. With Mal’s shirt hanging loose around her, framing her pale slim chest, and the way she was arched back, the muscles of her stomach tense, and the expression on her face –

Mal opened one eye. “Something up? You stopped moving.”

“Ah, sorry, I, erm. You look very…”

Mal grinned. “Oh, really? Did my unearthly beauty stop you in your pa-unf, yes. There.”

Polly leaned down a bit and slid her hand lower, pushing her finger inside and curling up. Mal moaned again, slowly rocking her hips in time with Polly’s movements.

“Good?” Polly asked. Not that she needed to, actually. Mal’s face – teeth buried in her bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks flushed – said enough. But still, she liked to hear it.

Mal made a desperate little noise and nodded. “Yeah, it’s – just keep going.”

Polly looked back at the mirror. Every tiny movement of her fingers immediately showed its effect on Mal’s face: the way her frown briefly deepened, or her teeth going deeper into her lip. And the noises as well, of course, tiny gasps and her breath hitching.

Polly kissed the top of Mal’s ear and trailed her free hand lower, pressing down just below her stomach.

Mal moaned again, a bit more loudly this time, and her hand twisted and -

“Ouch,” Polly said, reproachfully.

Mal’s eyes flew open. “What? What did I – ”

“Hair pulling.”

“Oh, sorry.” Mal quickly let go of Polly’s hair. “I’m just – I can’t – ”

“Shh, it’s fine.”

Mal arched back again, starting to pant, squirm. “Polly, for fuck’s sake, can you – ”

“What?”

Mal’s hand flew down and closed around Polly’s wrist. “Just, just keep going. Don’t stop. Don’t stop don’t stop don’t – _ah_ ”

She gave a full-body shiver and squeezed her eyes shut. Polly stared at the mirror, completely entranced by the sight of Mal, her Mal, perfectly-in-control suave-and-arrogant Mal, writhing and squirming in desperation against her.

Mal’s hand went tight around Polly’s wrist. She threw her head back and convulsed in Polly’s arms, gasping in air like she was drowning.

Polly calmly kept moving her hand, drinking in the gorgeous sight of Mal in the throes of orgasm. Right until Mal stopped writhing and leaned back heavily against Polly.

She pulled her hand back and wrapped both arms around Mal’s waist, snuggling close. Mal blew out her cheeks. “Whoo, that was…”

“Good?”

Mal gave a weak laugh. “Yeah. Good.” And then she looked at the mirror, and her eyes widened. “I look…”

“Delectable?” Polly suggested. “Debauched? Scandalous?”

“Pretty damn hot.”

Polly huffed with laugher and ruffled Mal's hair. “Yeah, well, you are. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

“Ah, you like ‘em a bit cocky, Perks, don’t deny it.” She turned and swung Polly around, but Polly dodged Mal’s arms.

“Actually, I have stuff to do,” she said, completely poker-faced. She took a second to enjoy Mal’s affronted expression, and then she turned and went to her books. “Revision, remember? Exams in three weeks.”

“You – ”

Polly looked over her shoulder. Mal was spluttering.

“We’re not here just for fun, you know,” she continued gleefully. “We can’t just spend the entire day shagging.”

“Who says we can’t?” Mal asked, looking like she was planning to find whoever said that and strangle them.

“I do. Now shut up,” she sat down on the bed. “Can’t study when I’m distracted.”

Mal’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll show you distracted,” she growled, and then she pounced. Polly went down with a squeal.

She didn’t do much revising that day, in the end.

Polly found she didn’t particularly care.


End file.
